Little things, almost impalpable, had happened to justify that doubt; something in his manner had belied his words. He waved an arm and spoke with a peculiar resonance. She had arranged for a supper of tea, a boiled egg, and some tinned peaches. You know not what a wretched guilty thing I am. "So did I," answered Jack; "we had better move on. The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce.
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